Something To It
by Caroline
Summary: [HouseCuddy] 'Why does everybody think you and I had sex? Think there could be something to it? '


TITLE: Something To It  
SPOILERS: "Humpty Dumpty" (2x03)

* * *

"House, it's me. Pick up the damn phone already. I know you're there."

Greg House smirked as he laid stretched out on his couch, twirling his cane in the air. He was close enough to pick up the phone. It was laying on the end table just over his head, but... he was enjoying the irate tone of her voice far too much.

"I just got home and I see that you've raided my panty drawer. My pink thong is missing."

Now he clicked the 'on' button and pulled the phone to his ear. "Do you take inventory of all your skimpy little undies? How did you pick the hot pink spandex one out of the whole bunch? You have such deep-seeded insecurities, Dr. Cuddy." He shook his head and made a 'tsk' sound. "Keeping track of your underpants..."

"House, what the hell did you do with my underwear? I swear if I go through these and find out you took any more..." She left the threat dangling.

"Don't worry, your precious panties are safe. In fact, they may be in a ball in Chase's pocket."

"_What_??"

"Well, when I last saw that particular little pair, it was in Chase's hand. God only _knows_ what he's doing with it now." He set his cane down on the coffee table.

"Chase was in my bedroom? With you?"

"Yes, he was. While doing quite the stellar detective impression."

"What are you talking about?"

He heard the sounds of dripping water hitting metal and figured Cuddy was probably setting out pots and pans in strategic places to catch the rainwater let inside by her still-unfinished roof.

He sighed, "Oh, nothing, really. He was just minorly interrogating me about our relationship. He says we're," he began his best Chase impression, "'way too nahsty to each othah to have nevah bean nahsty.'"

Cuddy huffed. "You think _that's_ bad? I had Cameron giving me the third degree about you while we were at Alfredo's house."

"Hah!" House barked a mirthless laugh. "I'll see your Cameron and raise you Foreman, Wilson, _and _Stacy."

"Yeah, Stacy definitely thinks we're sleeping together. And your little comment in my office earlier didn't exactly help matters."

"The slip-up was purely innocent, I promise."

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line as she chuffed, "Right."

"What I'd like to know is why everybody's suddenly so fascinated with our sex life."

"You say that as if we have one."

House raised his eyebrows and sat up, interest piqued. "We don't?"

"Hardly."

"So... what was Michigan State, then?"

"Youthful indiscretion."

"And that time after Stacy and I had split, and you had just dumped what's-his-name--"

"Adam?"

"Yeah. What about that one?"

"Vulnerability."

"How about that time on New Year's, when--"

"We were drunk."

"Right."

"So that time was due to the alcohol."

He narrowed his eyes and grinned cheekily, knowing she'd sense it over the phone. "You're really sexy when you're in denial, you know that?"

She sighed, using his rarely-spoken first name. "Greg..."

"How about last month? And Monday morning? And Monday night? And... a good portion of Wednesday night?"

Silence reigned on the other end of the line for so long, House half-feared she'd hung up on him. So, he used _her _rarely-spoken first name as a test. "Lisa?"

"Still here, House." She was back to using his surname.

"Do I get an answer?"

"I... don't know about those times. I don't know what those were."

"I bet if I came over, we could figure it out."

A pause ensued on the other end, and he held his breath, waiting for the sound of her voice again. "I bet we could. How soon can you be here?"

With wide eyes, House grabbed his cane and got to his feet as quickly as he could. "Very soon."

"Good. And House?"

He had the phone cradled between his neck and shoulder, busy throwing his jacket on. "Yeah."

"No handyman cracks this time when I open the door."

"Only if you promise not to violently haul me off to your bedroom like the last time. I'm fragile, you know."

"Excuse me? I didn't _'violently haul' _you to my room."

He grabbed his keys off the table. "No, you're right. It was more like... enthusiastic dragging."

"Well, you weren't exactly kicking and screaming."

"No. But I _could_, tonight, if that would turn you on."

She sighed heavily, as if contemplating why she put up with him daily. "House?"

"Yeah."

"Just get your ass over here."

He grinned. "See you soon, Party-Pants."

* * *

FIN 


End file.
